"You can take the water out in the morning." "Yes, Mas'r Jackson." Micah picked up the damp towel and soiled clothing, then let himself out the door--a nearly silent, efficient and well mannered servant. He remembered some of Randi's first criticism--that people never said anything to him but "yes, Master Jackson," and "no, Master Jackson." He'd thought her remarks preposterous then, but now, he saw the truth of her observations. He could go for days with no conversation except for that of Lebeau. If they hadn't been friends for years and been through so much together, he doubted even a freeman would really talk to him. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed arguing with someone before Randi came into his life. For the past several years, he'd been so careful to blend in, so circumspect in his actions, that his life had become silent and dull. Randi was never silent or dull. She sparkled with life and energy. She resonated with passion and opinion, stated firmly and surely with a curious blend of emotion and logic.
